Their conversation progressed by fits and starts till his domicile was reached. Leaving the trap to the care of the boy, who might have been a mute for any indication he had given to the contrary, Mr. Macpherson led her into a parlour, where a kettle steamed invitingly on the hob. He was greeted by a little woman, evidently the wife referred to; and a rosy offspring, addressed as Charlotte, brought her progenitor a pair of slippers. His introduction of Mary to his family circle was brief. "'Tis a young leddy," he said, "I gave a lift to. But I dinna ken your name?" "My name is Brettan," she replied. Then, turning to the woman: "Your husband was kind enough to save me from walking home from Finchley, and now he has made me come in with him." "It was a braw nicht for a walk," opined Macpherson. "I'm sure I'm glad to see you, miss," responded the woman in cheery Cockney. "Come to the fire and dry yourself a bit, do!" The initial awkwardness was very slight, for Mary's experiences in bohemia were serviceable here. The people were well-intentioned, too, and, meeting with no embarrassment to hamper their heartiness, they grew speedily at ease. It reminded the guest of some of her arrivals on tour; of one in particular, when the previous week's company had not left and she and Tony had traversed half Oldham in search of rooms, finally sitting down with their preserver to bread-and-cheese in her kitchen! It was loathsome how Tony kept recurring to her, and always in episodes when he had been jolly and affectionate! "Your husband tells me he is in the wine business," she observed at the tea-table. "He is, miss; and never you marry a man who travels in that line," returned the woman, "or the best part of your life you won't know for rights if you're married or not!" "He's away a good deal, you mean?" "Away? He's just home about two months in the year--a fortnight at the time, that's what he is! All the rest of it traipsing about from place to place like a wandering gipsy. Charlotte says time and again, 'Ma, have I got a pa, or 'aven't I?'--don't yer, Charlotte?" "Pa's awful!" said Charlotte, with her mouth full of bread-and-marmalade. "Never mind, pa, you can't help it!" "Eh, it's a sad pursuit!" rejoined her father gloomily. In the glow of his own fireside Mary perceived with surprise that his enthusiasm for "his wines and speerits" had vanished. "Awa' frae your wife an' bairn, pandering tae th' veecious courses that ruin the immortal soul! Every heart kens its ain bitterness, young leddy; and Providence in its mysteerious wisdom never meant me for the wine-and-speerit trade." "Oh lor," said Charlotte, "ma's done it!"